Maybe they are right
by Rose Ruru
Summary: Takes place after "Audrey Pauley." It's my first fic, so be nice and give feedback!


Title: Maybe they are right Summary: a sappy story about what could have happened after "Audrey Pauley." Feedback: it's my first fic so I don't expect much, but it's always welcome Disclaimer: The X-Files don't belong to me. Its characters don't belong to me, although I've been wishing that they could have been mine ever since I was in first grade. But then again, they don't belong to me and never will.  
  
Maybe they are right  
  
Somehow, this ride has been very uncomfortable to me. Maybe it's because my mind is still kinda foggy after the accident, or maybe. maybe my intuition has failed me, for the first time.  
  
John is driving me home from the hospital. He hasn't said anything at all; as a matter of fact, he said nothing. I was hoping for a warm greet, maybe a hug. Hey, one's got the right to expect a hug from a longtime friend, after you just got pulled back from the gate to death, right? But nothing. He just grabbed my bag, and walked toward the exit. Suddenly I wish that Dana was the one who's picking me up; this awkward silence is killing me.  
  
Talk about Dana. I've always wondered how could she be so devoted to Mulder. I think I understand now. Well, sort of. You got stuck with a guy in a basement full of unsolved cases. You have to spend eight hours for five days of the week for the whole year with him. Then sometimes you have to go on trips with him. He saves you and you save him. You two grow close easily, especially since these paranormal phenomenon are pretty scary. And last of all, that guy is kind of good-looking.  
  
So are John and I stuck in this situation too? I shake my head and stare straight on the road, but the thought about this relationship topic just won't go away. Audrey told me that John loves me, and I truly believe her. But then, maybe she only said it because I want to hear it. I want to hear it from John, just to be sure.  
  
But I know that kind of talk probably will never make its way out of his mouth. He's built a barrier to his soul ever since Luke's death. No friggin' way he's going to break it down just because I survived this accident.  
  
A few more turns. a few more turns we would be at my building. I'd grab my bag, get out the car, and he's say that he'll see me at the office, and everything will be just the same. just the same? Maybe that's for the best, but I want something to change, after all this. Like I said, this silence is killing me, and so is that God damn barrier around his heart, or soul, or whatever you want to call it.  
  
Maybe when he parks the car, I should plant one on him. Maybe he'd get a heart attack, or maybe he'd die from shock. Well, if he survives he probably will never speak to me again. But it's worth a try. But then, if he never speaks to me again, Dana will suspect something, and John certainly wouldn't like receive more attention from her.  
  
I'm not sure where my train of thoughts is going. But before I could figure out, we are at the front of my flat building. Great.  
  
"So, I'll see you at the office, then," he says as he parks the car. Then he glances in my direction, and adds quickly, "If you need anything. just call, OK?"  
  
"Sure," I say, not sure what he meant. Then it just pops out of my mouth without even getting permission from my brain, "would you like to come up and have coffee or something?"  
  
For a moment I thought that something sparkled in his eyes. "Sure, why not?" was his reply, and I swear to God that the whole block can hear my heartbeat, as if it's going to break out from my chest and start to dance all over the place. He apparently doesn't notice it, or just choose to ignore it.  
  
"Coffee?" I ask him as I unlock the door and throw it open. Heck, I had no idea that my place could feel so warm and welcoming. They say that a major tragedy can change your view of life. Maybe they are right.  
  
"Nah, beer sounds better right now." He says as he throws his jacket over the back of a chair. I grab two cans of beer from the fridge, and, without looking, throw one in his direction.  
  
"Whoa!" he catches it and stares at me in surprise. "Maybe they ought to have kept you in the hospital for a few more days. Where did that come from?"  
  
"I don't know." Keep me in the hospital for a few days? Sure, I'd love that. That way he can come every day and just sit by my bed, and I'll never grow tired of watching him through my half-closed eyelids.  
  
We sit in silence as we drink our beer. Suddenly he says, "you were quiet in the car. is something wrong?"  
  
I raise my head to meet his concerned look. Those blue eyes, they just kill me. In a good way, though. Sometimes I find myself lost in them, just like now, as I struggle to come up with a reply.  
  
"Oh no, no. everything's fine. I was just. thinking." Maybe I should have sit next to him after all; that way I'd have to turn my head to look at him. I wish that he would just turn his steady gaze away, or blink for a second. I hate being lost. And now I'm lost again in those icy blue eyes.  
  
Suddenly he gets up and before I know it, he is kneeling in front of me, his face so close that I can feel his warm breath. I continue to stare into his eyes. Now I want to get lost for the first time.  
  
"It's alright; whatever you were thinking is bothering you," he whispers, holding my hands in his. "You can tell me. You can talk to me about anything."  
  
Suddenly tears start to swell behind my eyes and I find myself saying, "Really? Anything?"  
  
"Anything." He must think that I'm an idiot. Maybe he thinks that the accident has done some decent damage to my brain. But at this moment, I don't care. I really don't care; I can't hold this back any longer.  
  
"Audrey said that you love me," I feel tears trailing down my face, and yet I don't care enough to wipe them, or try to hold them back. "I love you, John. Heaven knows that I loved you since the first time we met. But I want - no, I need to hear it from you." I look down at my hands, at his hands. "Tell me," I whisper as I raise my head so my eyes are focused on his, "do you really love me? John?"  
  
Before I could react, his lips are descending on mine, and the only thing I can think of is to kiss him back and hold him as tight as I can. We stay in this position for few more minutes, then he draws back from me, and he smiles a warm, delighted, joyful smile that I've always hoped to see on his face.  
  
"Is this good enough for a yes?" He whispers as he lifts me up and set me in his lap.  
  
~*~  
  
Some people say that a tragedy could change your life in a positive way. They say that it could bring a whole new view for your life. Or maybe it's a whole new meaning, I can't remember.  
  
Well, maybe they are right, after all.  
  
Author's Notes: well, I don't know about other people, but I find the ending of the episode quite unsatisfactory. I don't think that John Doggett would have learned nothing after he nearly worried his head off like that; after all, he can't be that dumb. So I decided to do something about it, after watching the tape over and over and over. it's not much, it's not good, heaven knows that all my stories are sappy but it's just the way it is and I can't help it. 


End file.
